


Nothing More Dangerous Than a Boy With Charm

by flammablehat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, M/M, Military Academy, Military Uniforms, Team Gluttony, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2232336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/pseuds/flammablehat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin discovers he has a thing for Arthur in his officer's uniform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing More Dangerous Than a Boy With Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Christina Aguilera song "Candyman" (go watch the video you won't regret it). Written for a bonus challenge during last year's pornathon, I think? My only experience with military graduations would be at the Air Force Academy, though I see Arthur as more of a West Point man, personally.

It's all very solemn and serious. It is the kind of solemn and serious that warrants snipers on the perimeter of the parade ground. Merlin supposes it's not every day the Secretary of Defense provides the commencement address, even at a military academy. It is nevertheless surreal to blink up at the heights of the stadium and spot hunched figures behind scary looking guns which Arthur would undoubtedly know from butt to muzzle. 

And he has to take a deep breath and slide his program over his lap, irrationally terrified that someone will be looking through their scope at just the right moment and notice the weird guy in the stands with the obvious boner. 

Merlin had not expected this.

Merlin is, in fact, what some at the Academy might refer to as a radical liberal - the guy who smiled to see the people waving signs that read "RumsFAILED" right outside the first security checkpoint leading onto the campus. 

No one could be more surprised than Merlin is to discover he has a thing for a man in uniform. It is, perhaps, a blessing in disguise that Merlin can't quite pick Arthur out of the ranks down on the field. From this distance they're a rigidly organized crop of crisp, blue units, and look like nothing so much as toys displayed for the inspection of some anal-retentive child. The thought feels particularly apt when Rumsfeld takes the stage and begins speaking. 

Merlin turns to his phone, conspicuously playing Tetris so his lack of interest isn't coded as suspicious behavior by the watchers behind their scopes. Arthur would call him paranoid, and Merlin would call himself justified. That’s part of the reason they’re so good together — they agree on all of the important things.

✩✩✩

The formal events conclude in the early afternoon, giving them about an hour before they need to start getting ready for the family and friend-hosted celebrations. Arthur follows Merlin back to his hotel because only cadets reside on base, and Merlin assumes there’s an unspoken understanding that rules don’t bend for guests like him. 

He’s not too bothered by it — it’s not surprising, and anyway, his room feels blessedly quiet and private after the bustle of the base. Arthur closes the door behind him and Merlin finally gets a chance to look at him without distractions. 

He actually, physically experiences his throat going dry. He’d always thought it was just an expression. 

Arthur is a masterpiece of sharp, authoritative lines. He’s broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. He’s wearing a goddam _saber_. “I’m staring, aren’t I?” Merlin says. 

“A little. Maybe a lot.” Arthur smiles, and it has no right to be as devastating as it is. 

“This is so inconvenient,” Merlin says, faintly. Arthur crowds him up against the wall, and Merlin can _feel_ himself go pliant. He can’t get his gross motor skills to cooperate properly, not when Arthur could cut someone with his perfectly creased dress blues. 

“Would you like an officer or a gentleman in your bed tonight?” Arthur murmurs.

“Christ,” Merlin says. “That was awful.” 

“It really was,” Arthur agrees, laughing and pressed in close, breath beginning to come heavier between them. 

“Should I call you ‘sir’?” Merlin says, fingers clutching at the dip in Arthur’s back, gripping at the thick texture of his jacket as his knees begin to weaken. 

“Only if you plan on taking orders,” Arthur says, and they’re panting, grinding, tearing at Merlin’s shirt and placket — but not Arthur’s, no, those are staying on — 

“Congratulations, officer Pendragon,” Merlin manages to get out before Arthur reduces him to animal sounds and monosyllables.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Charm me now, in every lifetime (the dangerous remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477351) by [i_claudia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia)




End file.
